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AN 



EULOGY 



Pronounced at Wiscasset, in tlie Afternoon ef the State Fast, April 22d, 1841 



ON 



I'LL! AM HENRY HARRISON, 



LATE PRESIDENT OF THE U. S. 



delivered and published at the request of a committee ot 
the citizens of wiscasset, 



BY 



^ H N H. SHEPPARD, 



' i • * 



WISCASSET. 

?RINTED BY R. B. CAtDWElL 
1841 






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v ••-, •' , \ 



f2Ag'03 



IS U Ii O G Y. 



There is an instinct in the human mind, which has in 
all ages attracted the attention of the philosopher, as an 
internal evidence of a future existence, like a forerunner 
shadowing forth another world, before life and immortality 
were brought to light. It is our fondness of calling up to 
memory our departed friends, and retracing their looks and 
movements and conversation, years and years after they 
have gone, and then casting our eye forward to that time 
and place, we cannot say when nor where, in which we 
hope to meet and know each other again. Some degree 
of this belief has been found, wherever mind has been dis- 
covered ; and its strength and intensity have advanced with 
civilization, until our blessed religion made known the path 
of life. Without such enduring hope, what would this world 
be, with all its riches, honors and enjoyments, but the 
dream of a shadow ; for, one short hour may sever the 
tenderest connexions, break up friendships of long duration 
and leave the mourner solitary as a tree in the desert. — 
How often has the sun risen on our prospects in all the 
splendor of the morning, and gone down in the evening on 
sorrows, that left us desolate. The belief of meeting again 
in another world, softens the despair of the poor Heathen — 
alarms the midnight wakefulness of the murderer — and in- 
vigorates the soul of the faithful. It binds us to the past, 
for we love to dwell on the memory of those dear to us — 
it connects us with the future, for we fondly hope to see 
our lost friends once more ; and there are times, when our 
thoughts touch so intensely on an unseen world above,and 
beyond us, that we cannot then doubt the reality. But 
not on our deceased friends alone, do we love to meditate. 
The contemplation of the virtuous dead, whom we havej 



4> 

never seen, and have only known by reputation, elevates our 
views and kindles our affections. In their histories and 
biographies,we meet and converse and associate with them, 
as though they were still living ; and often does some il- 
lustrious person of a remote age, occupy more space in 
our retired contemplations, than our nearest neighbor or 
the acquaintance we daily meet. Why do we linger at 
the tomb of a patriot or gaze at the monument of a pub- 
lic benefactor ? Why muse over the volume, where Cic- 
ero, or Chatham or Patrick Henry seem to live and move 
and have a being ? Why thrill with patriotic fire at the 
portrait of a Washington? It is this instinctive love of cher- 
ishing the memory, not only of our beloved connexions 
who are far away, but of the good and excellent of the 
earth, who have gone to their rest. These emotions are 
doubly enhanced in musing on the departed personages of 
our own land — for their character was a common property ; 
they lived not for themselves — and the light, which those 
luminaries shed, as they travelled along in their orbits, we 
still see and feel in the world within us, as bright and beau- 
tiful, as though they were still lingering in our earthly ho- 
rizon. So true, is what the Scriptures tell us " the wise 
shall shine as stars forever and ever !" Nor is it too bold 
a figure, to compare the constellations of the great and 
good of all times and countries, to whom the extensive pe- 
rusal of history introduces us,to that sublime imagery,which 
the starry Heavens exhibit, in one of the clear and cloud- 
less nights of our Northern hemisphere. 

We are naturally led, my fellow citizens, to solemn and 
interesting reflections of this kind, when we think of the 
heavy blow which has visited our land and cast a shade over 
every face. From the height of power — from the summit 
of human glory, the Head of our Republic has been remov- 
ed, by an inscrutable Providence, into the world of spirits. 
A beloved chieftain, patriot and christian is no more ! Ele- 
vated to the highest station in the gift of our Country, he 
commenced a career with as fair a prospect of many years 
of life, as any one now in the health and strength of man- 
hood could anticipate ; and a few short weeks have closed it 
forever ! In the beginning of last month, he was sur- 



s 

rounded and gazed at by thousands crowding to the superb 
Capitol to behold the splendor of the Presidential inaugu- 
ration. At the beginning of this, a long and mournful pro- 
cession— a magnificent Funeral Car — domestic and for- 
eign dignitaries- — and the gloomy sounds of the bell, the 
minute gun and the muffled drum, passed through the 
streets of Washington to the distant Cemetery, and told 
the stranger, that a great man had fallen in Israel. The 
Capital, recently so brilliant and overflowing with crowds 
of gaiety, is touched with no. common sorrow. There is 
mourning deep, sincere and universal. It is every where 
felt in our land— on the mountain top and in the valley— 
in the city and village— from the shores of the St. Croix 
to the remote Missouri — by the Atlantic and by the Lakes, 
" there is lamentation ; for he had done his country much 
service, and was greatly beloved as a private man. It is 
right then, and it is proper, that we should sympathize with 
other and greater places in offering our united tribute to his 
worth. And it is a pleasing reflection, that the character 
and virtues of our departed President, furnish such copi- 
ous materials for a heart-felt Eulogy, without the necessi- 
ty of recuring to the Arena of political life, where vari- 
ance of party feelings might excite conflicting emotions. 

And there is a peculiar propriety in selecting this State 
Fast, as, a day of humiliation, mourning and sorrow on 
account of our bereavement. This day is a commemora- 
tion of an ancient and venerable custom of New England, 
We are called upon by the constituted authorities of our 
State, to humble ourselves before God and implore his 
Great and Holy Name, for forgiveness and blessing. It 
is a day, in which the past year is spread in memory before 
us. To some, the loss of parents or children, of beloved 
connexions or associates, rises in renewed freshness on the 
broken heart 5 to others, a nearer and more rapid approach 
to an unseen world, is realized: and to all, there is a voice 
from Heaven, speaking about things of awfuland alarming 
magnitude, of realities which eye hath not seen, nor ear 
heard, in the common pursuits of life. We have reason 
then to humble ourselves before the most High, and entreat 
his mercy and guidance. As a people too, we are remind- 



ed of another political year, terminating in a great Nation- 
al loss. Surely then, no time could have been selected 
more appropriate to that frame of spirit, such a visitation 
ought to produce in a rational mind, which realizes in every 
event the hand of a superintending Providence, in whose 
sight " a thousand years are but as yesterday when it is 
past and as a watch in the night." 

William Henry Harrison was born at Berkley, about 
twenty five miles below Richmond in Virginia, February 
9th, 1773. His father was a distinguished member of that 
august assembly, who signed the Declaration of Independ- 
ence. He was a man of high rank in Virginia, and an in- 
timate friend of Gen. Washington. Like many devoted 
patriots, he died poor and left his third son William Henry 
a minor; but his education was not neglected. He was 
sent to Hampden Sidney College and was preparing for the 
medical profession, when the Indians rose on the frontier 
of Ohio, and roused the gallant Virginians to protect the 
defenceless inhabitants. He abandoned his studies at the 
alarm and was appointed by Gen. Washington an Ensign 
in a regiment ol Artillery, which was stationed at Fort 
Washington, on the Ohio, not far from the present loca- 
tion of Cincinnati. He was then nineteen years of age. 
At that time the Indian Canoe only navigated those waters, 
since so renowned for the multitude and variety of its steam- 
ers ; and on the banks of that picturesque river, the dis- 
tant night fires, and war cries of the Indian often alarmed 
the daring settler, who was exposed to numerous tribes of 
the wilderness, among whom the Miamies, the Delawares 
and the Hurons of Lake Erie were conspicuous. There, 
their hunting grounds stretched over boundless regions, 
where now the abodes of civilization meet the eye and 
where cities, villages and churches of a wide population 
adorn the country. The continual skirmishes, campaigns 
and battles, which the first emigrants had with these savage 
warriors, are fast passing away from remembrance, though 
the trail of the Indian in the forest created no common 
fear} their mode of warfare was terrible and their chiefs often 
exhibited traits of heroism and skill, which, as the Abo- 
rigines had neither poet nor historian, are only preserved 
fry tradition. 



7 



It was in the severity of winter, that young Harrison^ 
just emerging from the cell of a student, commenced a 
soldiers life ; and through hardships and perils, by disci- 
pline and self-denial, he rose rapidly in the confidence and 
respect of his countrymen. Before he was twenty-one he 
was honorably noticed for his bravery and services under 
Gen. Wayne, and in 1795 with the rank of Captain was 
placed in command of Fort Washington. Here he was 
married to an accomplished woman, the daughter of John 
C. Symmes, the founder of the city of Ohio — a lady, the 
beloved companion of his toils and trials, of his adversity 
and his glory, who is now left to deplore her irreparable 
loss. 

In 1797 he quit the army and at the age of twenty-four 
was appointed Secretary and Lieut. Gen. of the North 
Western Territory, under Gen. St. Clair, the Governor 
of that region. In this office he endeared himself to his 
fellow citizens by his integrity, urbanity of manners, and 
fidelity to his country. He was soon after delegated to 
Congress, where by his celebrated Land Bill, attacked by 
powerful statesmen and defended by his extensive knowl- 
edge of the subject, he became distinguished in the eye of 
the Nation, and succeeded in applying a remedy to great 
evils and injustice in the distribution of the public lands. 
After a delegation of one year only, he was appointed 
Governor of the Indiana Territory. This was in 1800. In 
this high trust, so much resembling the provincial power 
of a Roman Proconsul, he made many important treaties 
with the Indians, preserved peace with their tribes, divided 
the domain into counties and townships, superintended the 
military and municipal departments, and in all the compli- 
cated and various branches of government, was judicious, 
impartial and scrupulously upright. The testimonials of 
his character stand recorded in the grateful resolutions of 
the House of Assembly in Indiana in 1809. 

About this period, the celebrated Tecumseh, a Shawanee 
Chief, began to disturb the tranquility of the, distant fron- 
tier. Numerous tribes of the Far-West were dwelling on 
the streams and in the wilds of Indiana. To unite them 
and other nations in one universal and exterminating war, 



and to destroy or drive the white man from the iand, was the 
object of his ambition. He was a chief of great abilities, 
insidious, eloquent at their council fires and formidable in 
the field of battle. His countenance was fierce and his 
manners ferocious. Few, if any, among our Indian ene- 
mies have been superior in talent or stratagem. In 1809 
he was invited to a conference at Vincennes by General 
Harrison, He came — and with him four hundred warriors 
in full armour, instead of thirty companions, as expected. 
He haughtily commenced with the most extravagant de- 
mands of territory. On being refused, with a fiery eye 
and rapid gesticulations, he addressed the passions of his 
followers and made use of insolent threats. It was an 
eventful moment. Gen. Harrison saw his danger and in 
the midst of unarmed citizens, was exposed to destruction. 
With that sudden resolution, peculiar to minds of great 
courage and decision of character, he suppressed his feel- 
ings, drew his sword, and with a firm, intrepid look and 
Voice, over-awed the dark conspirator ■; and Tecumseh re- 
tired and left the place in security. But his designs and 
and intrigues were unceasing ; and difficulties threatening 
the peace of the United States and England, Tecumseh 
■assembled his warriors, raised the war-whoop in the 
wilderness and commenced hostilities, by depredation and 
murder; until at last Gen. Harrison found it necessary to 
march to the Wabash, seek the head quarters of a 
thousand savage warriors and attack the centre of Tecum^ 
sen's dominion. 

With a body of 900 troops, formed from Militia and vol- 
unteers, with a few brave Kentuckians and a small detach- 
ment of United States troops, he appeared at Tippecanoe. 
He went there, not without hope of effecting peace, for it 
was no pleasure to Gen. Harrison to shed blood. He used 
caution and vigilance at every step, and was always on his 
guard against surprize or ambuscade, for he knew of old the 
trail of the Indian. He knew, too, his foe was treacherous 
and unmerciful. Having encamped on an eligible spot he 
watched the wiles of his adversary, and night and day he was 
prepared for battle. It was on the 6th of November 1811; 
the shadows of evening were gathering over the wilderness 

i 



«nd the troops lay down to rest in their clothes and equip- 
ments, the Dragoons armed with pistols and daggers, the 
infantry with guns loaded at their sides — the midnight had 
arrived and passed with clouds and rain and darkness, but 
the dawn had not yet come. Gen. Harrison had risen 
and was sitting by the camp fire, with his troops in deep 
repose around him ; when he 

"Heard the random and distant gun 
That the foe was suddenly firing." 

The guards rushed into the encampment, the wilds at the 
dead hour resounded with the War-hoop and the indians, 
like the demons of darkness, came upon them thirsting for 
blood and sure of victory. But while his brave soldiers 
slumbered and slept, Harrison's eye and ear were open 
for their deliverance. His voice pealed the thunder of 
alarm. They sprung upon their feet, formed their lines, 
rushed into action and in a moment met the enemy. The 
dawn of day broke upon a desperate struggle. Maj. Da- 
vis, and Col. Owen, and Col. White and many brave men 
fell and danger and death thickened around them, when 
Gen. Harrison ordered them to charge bayonet; and wilh 
one firm, vigorous and irresistible impulse, they bore down 
upon the enemy and the Indians gave way and fled in eve- 
ry direction — they fled from that spot, whose renown is 
now kindred to* Saratoga, Yorktown, and New Orleans. 
Of such vast importance was that single battle in the pres- 
ervation of the Western country. In the height of it, 
amidst the din and confusion of the struggle, the voice of 
Harrison was heard loud, clear, and commanding; and the 
Legislatures of Indiana and Kentucky soon acknowledged 
his merit and services in the most grateful manner. In 
the first three hundred years of the Roman Republic, be- 
fore Italy was subdued, when she was small in territory, 
and her capital was only a castle on Mount Palatine, few 
more eventful or valiant battles were fought; though they 
shine in the gorgeous annals of the Historian as among 
the greatest events of the earth. But, while intrepid 
courage, military discipline and consummate skill shall 
■merit the applause of a generous country, that spot near 
the Wabash will stand prominent., in all coming history of 



10 



our times; and that awful night, when the moon was 
darkened, and the rain came down, and the General sat 
by the camp fire, listening to every sound of the desert, 
with his armed troops slumbering on the ground — that 
night, when the sudden 6hot and the Indian yell, echoed 
from the declivities of the hills, and the guards rushed in, 
and arms clashed, and the din of battle rolled and the 
Chieftain's voice was heard, rising in the storm of war, as 
brave men fell around him— that night, ushering in a morn 
radiant with the notes of victory, will come up in the vis- 
ions of history before many a patriot's eye, when we have 
all passed away, and when the red man of the West, too, 
has vanished from the earth, leaving no trace behind, but 
in tradition ! 

There are many now present, who remember the 18th, 
of June 1812, when war was declared between this coun- 
try and Great Britain. Berlin and Milan decrees,and Orders 
in Council, had long been the great topics of conversation. 
Almost every Newspaper was saddened with the tale of 
battles and campaigns. Napoleon, like some unearthly 
o-enius from the vast unknown, was marching over Europe 
with his flying artillery and embattled Legions, overthrow- 
ing kings and potentates and principalities. The world 
was in arms. So dark and tempestuous were the times, 
that Fisher Ames exclaimed in one of his graphic essays,, 
" Fourteen centuries have gone back over our heads and 
Attila, the scourge of God, has come again !" 

General Harrison at that period was at the height of 
popularity in Kentucky, and was appointed Maj. Gen. of 
her Militia. Our western frontiers were exposed to the 
ruthless tribes of the forest, and the Lake Indians of up- 
per Canada were hovering over the mountains, ready to 
pounce like a bird of prey, upon the trembling borderers. 
There were few garrisons, or troops or munitions of war to 
protect them, and they anxiously looked to the brave sol- 
diery of the West for their defence. Soon after the news 
of hostility, Chicago and Mackinac were taken, Detroit 
was besieged,and a long extended sea-coast was invaded by 
the greatest Naval power the world ever saw. Beyond 
the Alleghany too, insidious and barbarous tribes were 



11 

urged on by a haughty enemy, familiar with the dreadful 
science of destruction. Then it was, an unanimous feel- 
ing prevailed in the Western country, that the command of 
the North Western defence should be immediately confer- 
red on Gen, Harrison, a well tried and experienced soldier. 
The wisdom of the Rulers of that day thought otherwise. 
Detroit soon surrendered with ignominy ; and too late was 
he placed at the head of the Western army, to save our 
reproach, but early enough for his own glory. With a 
command the most unlimited, since the revolution, he re- 
stored the falling flag,checked the incursions of the Indian 
tribes, and taught the Canadian troops, flushed with the 
first fruits of victory, that neither danger, nor difficulty, 
nor embarrassment could avert their destiny. A mutiny in 
one of his Regiments, which he suppressed by his skiful 
conduct, the news of the cruelty of the British General 
Proctor in exposing his wounded prisoners to the toma- 
hawk of the Indian,^' the picture of a bleeding population on 
the borders, touched him lo the quick, and kindled his soul 
to redeem the American character- And a day of ven-^ 
geance hung over the infamous Proctor — but the revenge 
was noble. 6i Remember," said Harrison to his soldiers, 
" the River Raisin, but remember it only,whilst victo- 
ry is suspended, the revenge of a soldier cannot be grati- 
fied on a fallen enemy." Proctor fled from before him— 
until, on the 5th, of October 1813, he was forced to the 
battle-ground and on that memorable day the armies met 
and fought, and the river Thames blushed for the defeat 
and shame of the British fugitive. Field pieces captured 
at Saratoga, and surrendered at Detroit, were here re- 
taken, Tecumseh was killed and a brilliant victory cheer- 
ed our disconsolate countrv and broke down at one blow, 
the combined power of Canadian troops and Lake Indi- 
ans. Col. Johnson with his mounted Regiment, and 
Gov. Cass and Commodore Perry as volunteers, shared 
in the glory of that day — the same valiant Perry, who the 
10th of September on the wide waters of Lake Erie, had 
conquered a British squadron and covered himself with 
eternal renown. All were then ready to do justice to the 
military fame of Gen. Harrison. " A battle and a victory 



12 

like this" said Mr. Cheeves in Congress, *-woukjiiave 
secured to a Roman General, in the best days of the Re- 
public a triumph. 5 ' A most felicitous encomium. For, 
who ever mused over the magnificent pages of Livy, and 
read his thrilling descriptions of a Roman victory and a 
Roman triumph and followed with his minds eye a tri- 
umphal Car,through the streets of the Eternal city to the 
Capitoline mount with the long train of horse and foot 
banners and spoils, and the solemn procession of Senators, 
priests and citizens all marching to the sounds of music, 
who does not feel the force of these few words of that ap- 
plauding statesman. 

Col. Johnson said of Gen. Harrison:- — "No officer was 
longer in service, and oftener in action; and he never sus- 
tained a defeat." And again, "The blessings" said 
Gov. Snyder, to the Pennsylvania Legislature, "of thou- 
sands of women and children, rescued from the scalping 
knife of the ruthless savage and still more savage Proctor, 
rest on Harrison and his gallant army." The late elec- 
tioneering campaign and all its bitterness and harsh feel- 
ings, I trust, are gone, and he, too, has gone, who was a 
successful candidate of one of the belligerents. Now we 
can all unite in paying the tribute that is due to one of our 
departed great men. Nor need we indulge in any invidi- 
ous comparisons. Let us remember the unfading laurels 
of Jackson in the splendid battle of New Orleans, for they 
deserve it. It saved Louisiana by an immortal victorv. 
But let not this detract from the renown of the Thames, 
which broke down the power of the British Lion on the 
Lakes. Each victory will shine in the annals of our Re- 
public with a -luminous halo, and an impartial posterity 
will do justice to both chieftains. 

I have dwelt longer on the military exploits of Gen. 
Harrison, than might appear necessary to those familiar 
with his history; but another generation is coming upon the 
stage, and his services may not be fully appreciated by those 
who think not of the past. In 1814 he was appointed 
with Gov. Shelby and Cass to treat with the Indians — in 
1816 he was sent a Representative and in 1824, a Senator 
to Congress, from the State of Ohio. In 1828 he was ap- 
pointed Minister to Columbia, and there in an eloquent 



13 

letter, gave such patriotic advice to Bolivar, as became a 
republican and philanthropist. 

From this time, after serving his country in so many 
various offices, civil, military and legislative, he retired to 
North Bend, where he has resided the last twelve years. 
He gathered laurels, but not riches in his public employ- 
ments, and went from his high station into private life, 
poor, and dependant on some laborious pursuit for sup- 
port. Such were his circumstances, that he gladly ac- 
cepted a respectable office, though humble for a man, who 
had filled, for so long a time, a large space in the eye of 
the nation. He was appointed Clerk of a County court 
of Ohio, where within a few miles of the city of Cincinnati 
he dwelt on a small farm. In all the transactions of life 
his generosity and disinterestedness were remarkable; and 
the feet of his retiring from so many elevated offices, in 
humble and straightened circumstances, must strike every 
one, as a signal mark of his undeviating integrity — in an 
age too, when the love and power of wealth pervade all 
classes and too often prove fatal to every social virtue. — 
When I think, at this period of his life, of his humility and 
retired situation at North Bend, when I accompany in im- 
agination that modest, affectionate, unassuming man to his 
lowly occupation in a County court, and remember, that 
he fought two brilliant battles and gained the victory, and 
that he spent more than thirty, of the best years of his life, 
in the service of his country, I should tremble for the in- 
gratitude of Republics; if the examples did not rush to my 
mind of Epaminondas,Phocion,c$« Cincinnatus,who all died 
poor; for if we measure the renown of men by their patriot- 
ism and bravery, by their public exploits and private vir- 
tues, the allusion will not be deemed extravagant. 

In the retreat of Gen. Harrison at North Bend, a re- 
cess of the river Ohio about eight miles from Cincinnati, 
we behold a very interesting era of his life. The spot he 
had selected on that beautiful river was a romantic soli- 
tude, wilh a soil fertile and a scenery gladdening io the 
sight. He had served his country faithfully and with hon- 
or and sweet must have been the recollection of the past. 
He had seen Cincinnati, the <lueen of the West, rising in* 



14 

to a magnificent city, where in his boyhood and first essay 
in arms, the wild mountaineer gloomed on his eye, and the 
yell at midnight came upon his ear. He had seen Illinois, 
Indiana, Michigan and Missouri, swelling with their popu- 
lation, resources and advancement, into independent sove- 
reignties, where the illimitable forest or boundless prairy 
once spread ; and where the smoke of the steamer on the 
waters and of the rail car on the land, and long and wind- 
ing canals, told of an advance in the march of improve- 
ment, unknown in all past ages. He knew too, that the 
whole Western region adored him, for he had been their 
friend and benefactor. He was surrounded with a beloved 
family and cherished by the fond partner of his early days. 
From a small office he derived an honorable support and 
from his fruitful fields, and rural walks he gained health 
and cheerfulness ; and when he gazed from his home on 
the blue mountains of Kentucky, he could count up a 
thousand happy pursuits in Agricultural life. Indeed, if 
there be any situation in this world peculiarly desirable, 
any occupation nobler than all others, it is, that of culti- 
vating a few independent acres, where man can walk abroad 
in his native majesty, with the earth beneath him, ready 
to yield his daily bread, and with the Heavens above him, 
elevating his thoughts to the Fountain of blessedness; and 
niore especially at that season, when every grove is vocal 
and the lilly of the field is arrayed in more splendor than 
Solomon in all his glory. 

Fortunate senex ! Hie inter flumina nota, 
Et fontis sacros, frigus captabis opacum. 

Attached to literature, he cultivated an extensive acquaint- 
ance with History and Belle-lettres; and his writings 
evince, that he thought and conversed much with the 
mighty dead. His society was sought and valued by the 
intelligent and distinguished 5 and his hospitable mansion 
cast a lustre on North Bend, which talents and learning 
will ever do, where their light is caused to shine. 

It was in this classic retreat, after a long retirement from 
public life, and in the advance of age, that Gen. Harrison 
was invoked by his country to accept the first office in the 



id 

gift of a free people. He was elected, inaugurated, and 
scarcely at rest in the mansion of his illustrious predeces- 
sors, when disease came upon him: and on the fourth of 
Apiil, one month from the day of his induction into office, 
he was taken to that borne, where darkness now veils him 
from our mortal vision. It was the first time the Destroyer 
had ever entered the palace of the President. The most af- 
fectionate attentions of friends and physicians were of no 
avail. His hour had come. By his dying bed stood the 
faithful Cabinet he had chosen: and around the doors of his 
habitation hung an anxious, inquiring population of the Me- 
tropolis: and that last moment of the soul's emancipation, 
no doubt more glorious to this good man, than when his 
victorious banner waved over the field of battle, cast a 
shade over the city and passed like a cloud over the whole 
country. But there was one, nearer and dearer to the ex- 
piring sufferer, than all others, who was not there, to take 
a last, lingering look of life. She was far away at their 
fond home: perhaps musing on her husband's glory, amidst 
the flowers and birds of the spring at North Bend, looking 
forward to his return to their quiet mansion, and little 
dreaming of the agonizing news, which were already has- 
tening over the mountains — But let us drop the curtain, 
and commend her to that Comforter, who comes down from 
Heaven to visit the widow in her affliction. So true it is, 

"The boast of Heraldry, the pomp of power, 
And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gare, 

Await alike th' inevitable hour. 

The paths of glory lead but to the grave !" 

The admirable institutions of our Republic are very 
striking in this national bereavement. All parties, forget- 
ting political hostilities and past struggles, have united 
in demonstration of respect. The whole city of Wash- 
ington and the neighboring country seemed to start forth 
at the funeral, and there were seen Mr. Forsyth and Ex- 
President Adams, walking arm in arm to the grave. There 
is a generous spirit pervading all ranks of his opponents 
and few there are, who do not acknowledge his distinguish- 
ed services and purity of life. And it is worthy of remark 
that, when in Europe the demise ot a monarch is too often 



16 

the harbinger of a revolution and generally alarms the 
community with fear of change and disaster, on the death 
of our Chief Magistrate, the next high officer took his 
place ; all the machinery of government moved on like 
the noisless agencies of Nature, and President Tyler, with 
the Cabinet of President Harrison performed the last ob- 
sequies to his honored memory. 

It may not be unsuitable to touch,at this peculiar crisis, 
on the situation and prospects of our country. Of its po- 
litical regulations and measures of government, it is not 
however my intention to speak. Twenty six years have 
passed since we have enjoyed peace with all other nations. 
We have gone on, increasing in population, new States 
and internal improvements ; the last of which have been 
x>f gigantic extent and have involved some of our common- 
wealths in enormous debts. But a dark cloud is now 
hanging over our land. Men of fiery passions and ram- 
pant ambition, in this country and in England, are eager 
to plunge both nations into the horrors of War. The 
combustible materials are spread around us — a spark 
would kindle them into a blaze, which years might not ex- 
tinguish. True it is, our relations with England are del- 
icate and embarrassing. Questions of boundary and prin- 
ciples of National law, are coming into collision between 
the two countries. Yet, after all they can never be settled 
except by treaty — after much bloodshed, enormous waste 
of treasures, and a fierce struggle, to see which nation can 
do the other the most harm, the matter in controversy 
would still remain a subject for deliberation, and not for 
the sword. I look, however, more to the consequences, 
than to the distress of war, dreadful as it may be, between 
two great Christian nations, who are allied by the same 
blood, religion and language. War has a tendency to 
produce intemperance and profligacy — it demoralizes the 
habits — excites a recklessness of feeling and character — 
disturbs the moral foundations of society, and promotes a 
spirit of false glory, adverse to the principles of the Gos- 
pel. A war between England and America would darken 
the hopes of the whole world ; for at this very moment, 
there are multitudes going forth from both countries, into 



17 

all regions of the earth, breathing peace and good wid to 
men, arresting the cannibal, the idolater and the dealer in 
human flesh, and teaching them the way of life and deliv- 
erance from the powers of darkness. The soldiers of the 
Cross are abroad, raising their standard on almost every 
high hill under Heaven. There are mighty societies, 
gathering vast resources from the beneficent, and devoting 
them to a translation of the Holy Scriptures into all tongues 
and lamruaffes. There are numerous institutions of great 
benevolence. The good, which has been done has exceed- 
ed the most sanguine expectations, and a happier state of 
things than the world ever saw, is beginning to dawn upon 
us. There has been, too, a mighty work of reform. The 
ranks of intemperance, which twenty years ago, was de- 
stroying our whole nation, have been broken up ; not by 
vindictive laws,but by the overwhelming influence of public 
opinion ; and wherever temperance has made a proselyte, 
the smiles of Heaven have been visible ; industry, peace 
and the fireside comforts of life have followed, and very 
often too, new views of a better world have enlightened 
his soul. I speak of facts, no less astounding, than true. 
Nor in the countless number of moral blessings only, has 
society, compared to all former ages, sprung into fresh ex- 
istence. There is almost a new creation of the mind.—* 
Astonishing inventions and discoveries have multiplied in 
the long peace of nations ; agriculture has advanced in 
cultivating such variety and abundance of the fruits of the 
earth, that famines, so frequent in ancient Egypt and Pal- 
estine, are no fonger a source of alarm; education is be- 
coming universal, in the ways and means of instruction; 
and the wonders of the Stereotype, of Lithography and of 
Steam power, are producing a new era in all the- pursuits 
of life,cf< shedding light on the abodes of men from the cot- 
tage to the palace. And I might call your attention to 
to those durable pictures of the living landscape, which the 
sun has been taught to paint, as though to tell us, there 
are yet things that we have never dreamed of in our philoso- 
phy ; but time would fail me. Ten thousand minds in Eu- 
rope and America are even now, wrapt tip In deep medita- 
tion, pursuing the paths of still greater discovery and 



18 

ti _~Ma*iig all the minute movements of Nature; and eve- 
ry day is showing us, that there are powers and secrets 
yet in embryo, which the genius of man fostered only by 
Peace and patronage can bring forth. 

But war would put a stop to all these religious institu- 
tions, these moral reforms and intellectual researches; for 
we hear of no such advance in Religion, morals, and the 
arts amidst the calamities of military contest. Indeed a 
war, at this time with England, so strange and unnatural, 
would throw both countries back, at least fifty years, in 
the march of human improvement. And what would it 
be for ? The claim of a territory which that justice, 
which decides a land-mark between man and man, could 
easily determine — and the act of a single individual, whose 
ease is a matter of inter-national law, and not of ven- 
geance in either country. Bnt my fellow ciiizens, let 
me not be misunderstood. I deprecate the horrors and con- 
sequences of war; yet there are rights of nations, which 
must be respected and maintained, or sovereignty ceases. 
There is a principle of national honor, too, which must 
never be violatedjwith impunity. But, before we try this last 
and dreadful resort of nations ) an~appeal to arms,let no for- 
bearance, no sacrifice on our part, which is not ruinous 
or disgraceful to our country, be omitted. Let no vio- 
lent partisan kindle the flame of unhallowed feelings. — 
Then, if war must inevitably come, may the Lord God 
of armies, nerve our arm $ smile on the justice of our cause. 

A great change has taken place in the minds of thought- 
ful men, on the nature and necessity of war, and it is dif- 
fusing a wholesome influence in all classes of society; 
though,like some of the theories of radical reformers which 
always verge on extremes,the idea of neglecting the means 
of defence and relying on the doctrine of Non-resistance, 
is dangerous and visionary. But the field of battle and 
garments rolled in blood, have lost their charm. 



tC 



-The plumed troop, 



The spirit-stirring drum, the ear-pierciug fife" 

have ceased to enchant us with the dreams of chivalry. — 
We are beginning to look to the consequences and to the 
fruits of martial ambition. We have heard the cry of in- 



13 

jured humanity coming across the waters, like the voice 
of a great multitude, and calling on the Christian world to 
take a decisive stand against the avenger of blood. We 
have seen the result of the incessant campaigns and 
wars of the late Emperor of France; and none were 
more splendid; hut what blessing have they shed on Europe? 
Cast your eye beyond the sublimity of the battle-ground, 
the prowess of the sword, the array of armies and the 
march of victory — behold amass of human beings stretch- 
ed on the field of contest, the wounded, the dying, and the 
dead, men and horses and arms scattered round in horrible 
confusion — see in the distance the disconsolate widbWj 
the helpless orphan, farms forsaken, navigation destroyed, 
commerce cut up, the poor oppressed, licentiouness stalk- 
ino* abroad, children and parents, husbands and brothers 
torn away by cruel conscription — families flying from their 
burning habitations and wives and daughters exposed to 
want jnd infamy — and all this, for what ? To make a 
nation happier ? No. To raise the standard of moral 
excellence ? Not at all. To turn men from darkness to 
the light of life ? Never. All the result has been, to 
build Up the fame of one man and create him a wonder in 
the world, sitting on the throne of kingdoms and promoting 
a system of selfishness, infidelity and injustice to all other 
nations. I could pursue this subject further, if time would 
permit. There is a startling inconsistency between war 
and Christianity, think as we may ; and only, in the ex- 
treme cases of defence from oppression and injustice, can 
they be reconciled. Our eyes are opening on this scourge 
of all countries and all ages. Benevolent men in Europe 
and America are now spreading before the world argu- 
ments on this subject, irresistible as truth itself, and are 
making great advances in disseminating just views of mil- 
itary glory ; and as the hearts of kings and princes are in 
the hand of God, I feel no small confidence, that the efforts 
of Peace-makers, and the thousands of prayers in each 
country, which are daily going up to Heaven, at the family 
altar and in the holy temple, may avert this calamity and 
cause our national affairs to be over-ruled for our deliver- 
ance from evil. Happy would it be for us, if there were 



20 

many missionaries of Peace, like our late fellow citizen, 
William Ladd, who having spent his time and fortune and 
talents in going about doing good, has gone home to re- 
w s his reward— a man, who, if in some theories singular 
n his anticipations enthusiastic, yet deserves to be re- 
al - .shored for his many virtues and great attachment to the 
cause of Peace on earth and good will to men. 

Let us not forget, however, that our free institutions are 
exposed to intestine danger, inferior only to war and too 
often fatal to a Democratic government. And we should 
do well, to read and practise the lessons handed down by 
all former Republics. They teach us, that we are not on- 
ly in danger from luxury audits attendant vices— but from 
the intrigues of artful demagogues and desioninr* men of 

<c> C> CD C 1 O 

every party, and from the violence of party spirit itself. — 
Already, thefloorof Congress and the halls of State Leg- 
islation, have been too often polluted with the fierce strife 
of political aspirants. Interminable speeches on all sub- 
jects, but the one in discussion, wiih unsparing abuse and 
intemperate zeal, have been too prevalent among men 
high ».i pty.ver, who pretend to be statesmen and orators. 
Indeed, party-spirit is unjust in its measures, no less than, 
violent in operations. It sees not with a single eye. It 
monopolizes all virtue for its adherents, and denies all hon- 
esty and even the common charities of life, to its opponents, 
Und^r its influence we forget, that age shoy Id be honored 
for its experience and private character respected for its 
worth ; and when these are wantonly set at nought, no 
profession, nor display of a Love of the people is deserving 
of our confidence* To remedy these evils, must be the 
work of an intelligent and virtuous community: for the 
best, and truly, the only foundation of a Republic, is the 
virtue of its members, from, whom all power originates^ 
and;be assured, that each and every honest and industrious 
citizen, whatever may be his vocation, age or ability, 
whether employed on land or sea, in ihe workshop or office^ 
whether he labor in the field or factory, at the merchant's 
desk or in the scholar's cell, is a link of that great chain, 
which binds civil society together. We all have duties to 
perform. We are all necessary to each other, and to the 



21 

community. On this account, we owe it to our self pre- 
servation, to our well-being, to the glory of our country, to 
encourage industry, education, temperance, agriculture, 
our religious institutions and the diffusion of useful knowl- 
edge. We shall see these principles growing into impor- 
tance, as our population, wealth and resources are elevat- 
ing our rank in the family of nations. We shall find them 
becoming daily more essential in our own rising State ; 
where a step has lately been taken, which, I fear, was a 
breach of the Great Charter of liberty and which may lead 
to late repentance 5 I mean, that amendment of the Consti- 
tution of Maine, which diminishes the sacredness and 
security of the Judiciary, and exposes its members to mer- 
cenary influences, by making the short duration of their 
office liable to dependance on a party executive — an inno- 
vation the more glaring, because it reverses the wise judg- 
ment of antiquity, and teaches us a new principle, that the 
older men grow,the more ignorant and unqualified they be- 
come for those erudite and responsible stations, which were 
adorned by our ancestors with the lucubrations of twenty 
years. 

In contemplating the character of that eminent man, 
whose loss we this day deplore, though his military ex- 
ploits have attracted our applause— his public services, 
our gratitude — his honest and generous conduct, our af- 
fection — and his example, our veneration for those institu- 
tions, which can exalt a private citizen to the government 
of a great empire^ yet there is one feature in his life, wor- 
thy of imitation, and which comes home in all its loveliness 
to our fireside meditations. President Harrison was a be- 
liever in Christianity. Though his tender feelings for the 
woes of others, were often manifested, and even to the 
verge of life, shew themselves mosttouchingly in that last 
letter he ever wrote,in behalf of a poor but brave and honest 
seaman, whom he accidentally met in a voyage from Car- 
t&agena; yet those feelings were chastened by holy affec- 
tions. Often at a late hour of night, or at the dawn of day, 
he was seen bending over the Word of God; and we are, 
told such was his daily custom for many years, which, 
commencing from a sense of duty, soon became his de- 



22 

light. Yes, my friends, the late President of the United 
States, was not ashamed, even in the midst of a censorious 
world, to kneel in prayer before the Father of Spirits. In 
the splendor of power, in the adulation of crowds, he for- 
got not his dependance on his Creator ; and if higher and 
holier beings, dwelling around the awful throne of the In- 
visible, ever look down from above, and take an interest 
in this dark world, where we dwell, and we are told they 
do, surely when they see the Head of a people, bowing 
before the Sovereign of the Universe, we may hope that 
blessings will come down upon the land. This is no idle 
dream; there is a blessing, and there is a curse, believe it, 
or not; and the nation without God in the world, never was 
nor can be happy. All history is a Preacher of this fact. 
Wherever Chris! ianity has travelled, it has enlightened 
and exalted a people. Agriculture and commerce, arts 
and sciences, seminaries of learning and temples of wor- 
ship are in her left hand*, and at her right hand are pleas- 
ures forever more. With such views, lived and died the 
great and good man, whose loss we deplore — the much lov- 
ed, the lamented Harrison! And we have reason to 
believe,he has now gone up to the innumerable assem- 
bly of the blessed. 

Finally, my fellow citizens, it is time, this address should 
close. I fear, it has already exhausted your patience. But 
how can I part, without a brief remark on the uncertainty 
of life, standing as we do on the confines of a world to 
come. The Destroyer has struck a high mark in our land. 
He is continually about our paths, like a thief in the night. 
Gloomy would be our thoughts, if we believed he could 
touch the soul. He can prostrate the body; but by so do- 
ing, he only lets the prisoner toose. There is a spirit with- 
in us — there is a world beyond us — and there is a tribunal 
before which we must all appear. And the shadows of 
eternity seem already to cloud the mind of the wicked, 
warning him of dreadful realities, even before his feet be- 
gin to stumble on the dark mountains. But, what hopes 
and visions break upon the soul of the faithful, when he 
thinks of another world and of a dwelling-place of the 
blessed, eternal in the Heavens. He gazes on this green 



53 



earth and the still waters and the starry sky,andsees in their 
beauty and sublimity, only a prototype of something more 
transcendently beautiful hereafter — he looks into his own 
mind, and finds a capacity for improvement, with faculties 
suited to great discoveries, and with tastes for knowledge 
and excellence, more desirable to the understanding, than 
the fruits of Paradise were to the appetite, and all com- 
mencing with the simple, elementary attainments of a short 
life— and he feels he has a heart, only at ease, when warmed 
with charity, and susceptible of affections, pure, inexhaus- 
tible, and forever increasing. And when he thinks of a 
Theatre in the Heavens, where all these powers, uncloud- 
ed by sense and moving in a congenial element, will be 
called into action in the presence of a BEING, of whose 
surpassing glory and boundless perfections, the soul can 
form no idea in this house of its pilgrimage, how different 
how important, how incalculable appears the object of our 
existence. How trilling seems the value of human grand- 
eur ; and of what unutterable consequence, is a prepara- 
tion for the life to come I 






ORIGINAL HYMN, 
ON THE DEATH OF 
President Harrison. 

AIR: — Mount Vernon. 

Chieftain rest ! The battle ending, 
All thy warfare now is done; 

Angels in the clouds descending, 
Cry aloud — the Victory's won. 

Never more will care nor anguish, 
Rend thy anxious, troubled breast; 

Nor thine eye in sickness languish, 
Thou hast gone in peace to rest. 

Upward, thou hast gone to glory, 
Far from friends and kindred dear; 

Brilliant was thy life in story: 
Thy kind heart ne'er caus'd a tear. 

Sorrow mourns thee, deep and feeling. 
Ruler of the brave and free! 

Universal grief is stealing 

O'er all hearts, by land and sea. 

Gather flowers, his grave adorning, 
Sons and daughters of the West, 

For your bliss, he gave life's morning. 
For you fought — for you, was blest. 

Chieftain rest! No care to-morrow 
Ever more will grieve thine eye; 
While we mourn with heartfelt sorrow r 
Thou hast gain'd a crown on high I 



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